Mesmerist

by Pam McCutcheon

  Damn, it felt good. She needed this. “I thought I had done something wrong,” she confessed. “I thought I somehow caused the fire to happen earlier rather than later.”

  He smiled down at her. “Well, you made a believer out of me.”

  “Does that mean you’ll—”

  He placed a finger on her lips. “Shh. Not now, please.”

  She nodded. She didn’t feel like arguing anyway. She just wanted to be held, comforted. She snuggled into his rather squishy warmth, then looked up at him and wrinkled her nose. “You’re wet. And you smell like smoke.”

  He smiled as he lifted a lock of her hair to his nose. “So do you.”

  In fact, the whole room stank of it, and she wanted nothing more than to get away from the reminder of fire. “What I really need is a hot bath,” she said, longing for her tub at home with its endless supply of hot water and frothing, fragrant bubbles.

  “I’ll let you go then, so you can clean up.”

  She grimaced as he released her. “Thanks, but it doesn’t sound all that great. All I have in my room is a washbasin . . . and tepid water. Makes it difficult to get the smell out of my hair.”

  “Why not use the bathhouse then?”

  She shook her head regretfully. “Hotel employees aren’t allowed to use the baths.”

  “I think you’ve earned it today.” He smiled wickedly. “Besides, who will know? I’ll lock up and no one will be able to get in. You can indulge yourself to your heart’s content.”

  It sounded wonderful, but . . . “What if someone is still inside?” She hated the thought of being caught naked, vulnerable, and alone.

  “The staff did a pretty thorough search, so I doubt anyone is, but I’ll be your lookout if you prefer.”

  “It would make me feel better,” Gina said. Though she put on a good face, she still felt a little shaky and definitely didn’t want to be left alone.

  “Then I would be most happy to be your lookout.”

  “Great,” Gina said, and headed toward the open foyer and the entrance to the bathhouse.

  He gestured her in with a wave of his hand. “Private rooms for ladies to the right, gentlemen to the left.”

  “Oh, what the heck. I’ll be a lady today.” She headed toward the right and opened the first room she came to. With Drake’s help, she figured out the antiquated spigot, but the water that came out was just barely warm and smelled funny.

  “It comes naturally that way, from the mineral springs,” Drake explained. “But for those who like it hot, The Chesterfield has the latest in luxury—a water heater.”

  He showed her how to light it, and they found a big supply of the linen cloths that passed for towels in this time, but no soap or shampoo.

  “People don’t usually bathe here,” Drake explained. “They immerse themselves in the waters to cure their illnesses. But, occasionally, there are those who wish to bathe as well. Wait a moment.”

  As Gina unpinned her hair, he disappeared, then came back with a bar of Pear’s soap. “I found it in the attendants’ room,” he said triumphantly.

  Gina took the soap from him, knowing better than to hope for shampoo as well, and said, “Thank you. This is wonderful.”

  Smiling, his eyes sliding admiringly toward her un bound hair, Drake handed her a thin robe. “And you can put this on afterward.”

  She would have preferred thick, soft terrycloth, but it was better than getting back into her dirty uniform. Gina thanked him and when he just stood there, she asked, “Are you planning to stick around and wash my back?” It would sound like fun at any other time, but she felt too grungy to play right now.

  He smiled and backed out, shaking his head. “I’ll just be out here if you need me.”

  Once the door closed behind him, she sighed and turned on the water, figuring it should be hot by now. It was, and she gratefully stripped out of her soggy uniform, then stepped into the odd copper tub with a sigh. Ah, heaven.

  She just soaked for a few minutes, enjoying the unaccustomed luxury until she couldn’t stand her hair any longer. It was difficult to wash it this way, but she managed it, then cleaned the rest of herself.

  When she finished, she felt a little guilty. Drake must be feeling just as dirty, but she’d left him sitting out in the hall, guarding her. Reluctantly, she got out of the tub and dried herself with the linen towels, then put on the robe. Raking her wet hair out of her face, she opened the door to find Drake waiting outside in a similar robe, his hair wet and slicked back, and looking squeaky clean.

  “I used the room across the hall,” he explained, “but I kept the door open in case you should call out.”

  “Oh,” Gina said in disappointment with a longing look back at the draining tub. “You mean I could’ve stayed there longer?”

  “Did you want to?”

  “Yes, I was just beginning to relax. But I used all the hot water.”

  He smiled. “Then come with me.”

  She followed him down the hall, admiring how the thin robe clung to the contours of his body. He led her to a door and opened it with a flourish.

  “The communal ladies’ bath,” he said.

  She reluctantly tore her gaze from his backside to look. Beyond was a large round pink marble pool taking up most of the circular room. The familiar mineral odor wafted up from the pool and steam rose faintly from it. “Wow, a giant hot tub.”

  “They keep it warmer, here,” Drake said. “I think you’ll like it.” He gestured toward the pool and turned his back, obviously doing the gentlemanly thing. The pool looked so inviting, Gina couldn’t help but succumb to its invitation. Who needed a swimsuit when it was just the two of them?

  Slipping from her robe, she eased into the hot water and sighed, stroking to the middle. Ah, much better. She had never been skinny-dipping before, but if this was how it felt, she resolved to do it more often. The warm water caressed her body without the restrictions of clothing, making her feel a bit wicked.

  At her sigh, Drake turned around and sat on the edge, his feet dangling in the water.

  “This is great. Aren’t you going to join me?” she asked, only her head visible above the warm water.

  He looked startled, then nodded, his eyes dark and smoky. “I think I will.”

  To afford him the same courtesy he had shown her, Gina averted her eyes until she heard a splash.

  She looked back to see Drake resting against the edge of the pool about five feet away, his arms outspread on the marble lip with his head back and relaxed as he floated in the welcoming water. My, my, he looked good—sleek, wet, and very, very sexy.

  Tingles raced through her as she suddenly became very aware of him as a man. And as she bobbed up and down in the sensual pool, she felt the water move over her, caressing her in intimate places, places that yearned for Drake’s touch.

  How could he be so unaffected? Well, if it were up to her, he wouldn’t be for long. She glided to the edge of the pool, out of reach yet still within full view, and copied his position. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked in a low, throaty voice.

  “Umm,” Drake murmured. He opened his eyes lazily, and she knew the exact moment when he caught sight of her, for he froze, staring. “Wonderful,” he breathed.

  By emulating Drake’s position with her arms outstretched on the lip, her breasts were visible, bobbing up and down, her aroused nipples peeking out with each gentle lap of the water.

  As his eyes turned dark and smoldering, Gina’s insides turned molten with longing, a deep heat that had nothing to do with the water and everything to do with Drake. She held her breath, wondering if she was going to have to make the next move or if he had figured it out yet.

  Thank heavens, he was a fast learner. He pushed away from the side and stroked toward her, his gaze never leaving her face and breasts. Breathless, Gina couldn’t wait any longer. She, too, pushed away from the edge to meet him halfway. As they met, skin to skin, she wrapped her arms and legs around him, gasping with the pleas
ure of her breasts against his chest, his hardness resting against the cleft between her legs.

  Their mouths met in a hot, wet, hungry kiss that made her dizzy. Eons later, after nearly drowning in his kisses, she drew back, gasping for breath, and said, “More. I want more.”

  Reaching between them, she grasped him and tried to guide him inside, but he gasped, “Wait.”

  “Why?” She could tell he wanted her as much as she wanted him.

  “Let’s move to the side,” he said.

  Good idea—more leverage. They hurriedly moved to the side, and Drake positioned her with her back against the pool wall, raising her slightly so her nipples crested the water. Filling his hands with her breasts, he licked and sucked and nipped until she thought she would go crazy.

  It didn’t help that the lapping water was bringing the rest of her body to aching awareness as she floated free from the waist down. The only thing that kept her from floating away were Drake’s hands on her breasts, and the cage of his legs holding her inside. Every once in awhile, she could feel his penis brush against her inner thighs and it was driving her crazy. She knew where she wanted him, and it wasn’t poking at her legs.

  She reached for him again, and this time he let her grasp him firmly. But instead of guiding him inside where she wanted and needed him, she prolonged the agony by stroking him, loving the feel of him in her hands.

  He moaned with pleasure and glided his own hand down between her legs, sliding one finger inside her to drench himself in her moisture and titillate her overly sensitive nub.

  Gina gasped as dizzying pleasure rolled over her, but she refused to succumb. Instead, they stroked and fondled each other as their eyes locked, their chests heaving.

  But she couldn’t hold back forever. All too soon, the sensations peaked, sending wave after wave of pleasure washing over her. It was too much. . . . She threw back her head and screamed with exultation, the only way she could release the sheer, raw emotion he engendered in her.

  But there was no time to savor it as Drake thrust into her, their pelvic bones meeting as he seated himself to the hilt.

  God, that feels good. It felt even better when he slowly began to rock within her, his eyes half-lidded as his dark, mesmerizing eyes spoke their need. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and his eyes closed as his face reflected his sole purpose. He drew her even closer, going faster now. His breath came in heavier and heavier gasps, and he buried his face in her neck as he thrust even harder despite the barrier of the water.

  Watching his excitement had rekindled her own, and when Drake finally peaked with an exultant cry, she found herself following him over the edge, pulsing and quivering with exquisite completion.

  They just floated there for a moment, holding each other and trembling with the aftermath of their love-making. Gina recovered first and lovingly caressed Drake’s wet hair. “That was awesome,” she whispered.

  He gave her a gentle but thorough kiss. “You do have a way with words,” he murmured. “That was, indeed, awesome.”

  Yes, awesome and awe-inspiring as well. For Gina had realized something else. Drake was the only man who had ever truly made love to her—not acting merely on lust, not just slaking a need, but truly making love.

  And when she realized that, she also finally recognized that she had fallen hopelessly and completely in love with him.

  But her joy turned to ashes as she realized she could never have him, for come December 22, she would be going back home and he would be staying here—dead or alive.

  Chapter 17

  Two weeks after they made love, Gina was still regretting it. Oh, not the actual act itself—that was wonderful. But the realization she’d come to still had the capacity to unsettle her.

  Every time she was around Drake, she feared her newly-discovered feelings would show on her face or in her manner, so she took extra care to be more flippant than ever. It was necessary because, though the event had been momentous for her, it was obvious he hadn’t felt the same.

  In the aftermath, they had floated in the marvelous giant hot tub for awhile and talked about various things, including the fact that women in the future were far more open about things like sex. Gina had initiated the discussion to assure him that she wasn’t a loose woman by the standards of her time, but it had backfired.

  He seemed relieved at being absolved of guilt for bedding her, and it had the added consequence that he didn’t seem to feel the need to renew his marriage offers.

  Too bad. Though Gina had a very bad brush with one fiancé, the thought of marrying Drake didn’t seem so awful. She wouldn’t even mind staying back here in the past if Drake came along as part of the package. But only if he loved her as much as she loved him . . . which didn’t seem possible after all the things she had done to him.

  So, staying here was out. She’d just have to stick with her original plan and save the man’s life, then catch the next time portal back to the twenty-first century.

  She sighed. Now that that was settled, she needed something to do. Bored since the bathhouse and the offices were still closed to clean up after the fire, she decided to find Drake. Though a funny feeling shot through her every time she saw him—part love, part desire, part pain—she couldn’t help but seek him out, wanting to spend as much time with him as possible.

  Scruffy whined when she went to the door, so she took him along. The poor dog had been cooped up too much and she was beginning to feel guilty about that. As she passed through the hotel, she couldn’t appreciate how festive it looked, decorated for Christmas in its greenery and bright ribbons. All it did was remind her how little time she had left.

  She found Drake in his room as usual and expected him to be studying his notes, but this time, the police chief was with him.

  Scruffy fawned over Drake, and when he bent to scratch the dog’s ears, Gina spoke to the police chief. “So, have you learned anything about Shorty?”

  Garrett nodded toward Drake. “I was just about to tell Mr. Manton what I learned.”

  “Good,” she declared as Drake rose. “Then you won’t have to repeat it. What did you find out?”

  He frowned, glancing around at Drake’s room. “Perhaps we should find somewhere else . . . ?”

  Oh, good idea. It might look odd if people found her in Drake’s bedroom with two good-looking single men. And she couldn’t afford to be banned from The Chesterfield now that she was so close to the winter solstice.

  They found an unused sitting room and Garrett told them what he had learned, concluding, “We have been unable to place Mr. Callahan at The Chesterfield the night of the fire.”

  “He wasn’t here?” Gina exclaimed. “But he had to be.”

  “I didn’t say he wasn’t here,” Garrett corrected her. “I said we haven’t been able to prove he was here.”

  “Have you been able to prove he was anywhere else?” Drake asked.

  “I’m afraid not. He claims he was asleep in his room at Mrs. Zimmerman’s boardinghouse at the time of the fire, but since no one saw him there either, I’m unable to verify his whereabouts.”

  “Well, it had to be Shorty,” Gina exclaimed. Jeez, wasn’t it obvious? “Who else could it have been?”

  Garrett shrugged. “The fact is, ma’am, it might have been anyone. Without proof, I can’t arrest Mr. Callahan.”

  “Did you even search his room?” Gina demanded. “To see if he had matches or rags?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I did. But every gentleman carries matches, and it’s no crime to possess rags, or every housewife in Hope Springs would be under suspicion.”

  Her shoulders slumped. That made sense, but . . . “How about a pistol? Did you find a dueling pistol in his room?”

  Garrett gave her an odd look and drawled, “Now why would you ask about that? Were there shots fired . . . or did someone hold a gun on you during the course of the fire? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “No, not at all, Chief,” Drake interposed. “Miss
Charles just has an overactive imagination.”

  He shot her a warning look but she just shrugged, unrepentant. She had to find that pistol sooner or later. “Isn’t there anything you can do? He’s made threats against us several times.”

  “I’m quite aware of that, which is why I’m keeping an eye on him. And the staff here at The Chesterfield has been alerted as well.”

  “I’m sure you’ve done everything you can,” Drake said firmly, casting Gina a quelling look. He rose and the police chief rose with him. “Please let us know if you learn anything else.”

  “I will,” Garrett said, then politely took his leave. “Well,” Gina said with a belligerent glance at Drake, “I don’t believe for a minute that Shorty was sleeping at the time of the fire.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “You don’t? But you said—”

  “I said the police chief had done all he could, which is true. He can’t arrest anyone without proof.”

  Gina snorted. “Ha. From what I hear, it was done all the time back in the old days—these days.”

  Drake’s eyebrows rose. “Perhaps in a more lawless area such as the West, but a man of Jess Garrett’s caliber wouldn’t stoop to manufacturing evidence or running a man out of town on a rail unless he had incontrovertible proof.”

  Shoot, he was right. Garrett did seem an honorable, upright, Dudley Do-Right kind of guy. A lot like Drake, in fact. Well, since Drake hadn’t been able to convince Mrs. Rutledge to leave her husband yet and get them both out of harm’s way, they had no choice but to find another way to get Shorty out of the picture. “We’ll just have to take matters into our own hands, then.”

  Drake gave her a wary glance. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Maybe we can scare him away.”

  “How? With the ghost trick? Oh yes, it worked so well before,” he murmured.

  “Very funny.” Besides, it wouldn’t work unless she could gain access to the room above Shorty’s at the boardinghouse. “Do you have any ideas?”

  “Yes, how about we just stay as far away from Shorty as possible?”